The rest of the night went by in uneventful slumber. Angel was awakened by the foreign sensation of something warm next to him. Turning his head, his eyes befell the sleeping form of William. Turning on his side, he propped up his head and simply watched. *I could make a hobby out of this.*

The peroxide wonder was curled up in a little ball, dangerously close to completely invading Angel's side of the bed. Angel didn't want to move. Why would he? Being here, touching, smelling William; so close. He didn't want to wake him just yet. He doubted he'd got much in the way of rest lately. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was reaching towards noon. *Might as well go see if Doyle found any information.* Slowly, he inched himself off the bed so as not to disturb his partner. Grabbing clothes, he thought back to the previous night. It almost felt wrong somehow, that his soul wasn't gone. Not that he wanted it to be. It just seemed that if last night wasn't complete happiness, he must REALLY be missing out. As he was buttoning his shirt, he felt someone else's presence in the apartment.

"I'm up." Angel walked into the living area to find Doyle waiting for him.

"Sleep good?" Doyle looked at him with his solemn gaze.

"Yeah." Angel really didn't know what else to say. Looking at his friend, he wasn't sure what he saw. Happiness, definitely. He would have figured Doyle to be more upset, given the last time Spike was around they didn't exactly bond. But the Irishman seemed happy for Angel. Relieved, almost. "Have you found any information on that demon?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately, you didn't kill it." Doyle looked up at Angel. He looked - rested. Content. Doyle felt a little pang of jealousy. It was quickly over, however, when the thought of Cordelia in a G-string replaced it. "You gotta smash the jewel in its forehead. That's the key."

"Of course. The big obvious one you can't get to." *Why didn't I stay in bed?* Angel moved toward the exit, Doyle following close behind. What should he say? He felt as if he owed Doyle something. Some explanation for why he was so happy with the same immature bleach-head who threatened direct bodily harm during their last encounter. (Ooh, the mick's got spine...think i'll snap it in two...) "Doyle, you must think I'm crazy. I mean, I know what Spike said to you, how you guys... " Angel was cut off in mid-sentence when Doyle stopped and turned him around.

"Don't apologize to me, Angel. There is no reason to be sorry. It's very obvious what you two have."

"Had." Angel said sadly, lowering his head. "What we had...once."

"Had? Maybe I've been at the pub too much, but you looked more comfortable with Spike passed out, than you have since I've known you. And he came back here last night - with you. He's a grown man, Angel. He could have walked away. There was nothin' holding him here against his will. Make no mistake, Spike is here because he wants to be."

Angel just followed Doyle, lost in his own thoughts. He had been so absorbed by his own need for self-flagellation he didn't notice the obvious. Spike could have left. He was in public, on a sidewalk, and he could have taken off right there, or even last night after the dreams; instead of kissing. *HE kissed ME*. Wow. Angel finally digested that piece of truth. Then it started to scare him. Badly. *What if he wants to be a vampire, again? Could I do that? NO! I don't want to make him a vampire.* That was settled, then. Angel loved William with all his heart, but he wouldn't do it. That was jumping off the deep end, and he wasn't prepared for the consequences. *But are you prepared to lose him because of it?* That annoying voice in Angel's head surfaced to ask the obvious question. The same one he had fantasized about more than once. Given the choice, would he choose his life over love - again?

"Hey, Angel, where'd you go?" Lost in his thoughts, Angel walked right past Doyle.

Angel turned around and couldn't help but utter an uncharacteristic "Huh?"

"Demon needs salt to survive. Beach, caves, this way."

There was that smirk again. 'Angelus' wondered none-to-silently in the back of Angel's mind about why he was allowed to smirk at him like that. It was insolent. He should be punished. Angel broke into a trot to catch up to the half-demon. Maybe later.

"So, salt you say? There are some caves, he's probably living there."

"Yeah, that was my thought, too." Doyle hid his smile. Spike had really done a number on his employer. Angel was the unflappable white knight. Shinin' armour and all that. In the past 24 hours, Doyle was surprised he hadn't tripped over his own feet. He wasn't sure vampires were capable of being that un-coordinated. If they were, Angel would be the one to prove it. He was slightly shocked, himself, that he had taken this so well. Angel had been right. Spike was not exactly who he would have set the souled vamp up on a date with. He could see where the attraction came from, though. He imagined Angelus flipped over the petite-framed boy. He was disobedient, sarcastic, and generally loved to cause pain and mayhem for a good laugh. Doyle could relate. He once had told Angel he too had things to atone for. He imagined himself and Spike, in his new form, could have some interesting conversations. But his mood vanished quickly with one thought. Angel was happy.

REALLY happy.

That, unfortunately, was not a good thing. Angel knew this, didn't he? He was carefully taking on this new relationship, of course. Why wouldn't he? His life was too precious to him. His new friends, his soul. Ok, maybe Cordelia wasn't in the whole *friend* category, yet, but wasn't he? And his soul was important to him, right? Doyle relaxed; of course it was. He was just being paranoid. *Taking over for the boss for awhile* He smiled to himself. Why be worried? It was only Spike. Doyle frowned. Angel had called him by his given name of William, he was sure of it. He knew Angelus made him Childer, so that implied, what? He liked him, surely, as a killer. He knew Angel needed someone right now, and he figured since Spike was of his blood, he would be perfect for the job. Someone he could relate to. Someone who understood him. That kiss, however, was very passionate. He didn't need someone coming in and taking his heart. Was Spike truly a 'lover' to him? Could his feelings for Spike run that strong? Doyle stiffened slightly. Maybe this trip down memory lane wasn't so great, after all. He quickened his pace. Find demon, kill it, Spike goes back to normal? That was the plan. He was suddenly very anxious for it to work.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The first thing that hit Spike's sleep-fogged brain was the realization that he was alone. The second was that a stream of sunlight was peeking through the curtains, sending a beam across his bare chest. He wasn't dust. *Will I ever get used to this?* Spike just squinted, staring at the crack in the drapes. His fascination with the sunlight quickly faded, bringing his mind back to the first thought. He was alone. Where was Angel? It was the day, vamps slept during the day. He ought to know. The poof was more patient than him. He couldn't see him restlessly pacing the floor of a crypt waiting for 'Passions' to come on.

"Passions!" Spike ripped the bedclothes away from him and stalked to the living room. He plopped on the couch unceremoniously and picked up the remote. Flicking on the TV, he started to flip channels. He became frustrated very quickly when he discovered Angel only got in three channels, one of which wasn't even in English. No 'Passions' there. He stole a glance at the clock. It wasn't even quite time yet. "Food." It was a verbal command to his legs and he got them moving, making his way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, he instinctively reached for a container of blood. He picked it up, and realized two things very quickly. His hand was cold. So was the rest of him, including some very sensitive areas. Meekly, and glad no one was around, Spike placed the container of blood back on the shelf, and stole a look around the mostly bare refrigerator. "Blood and beer. And all this time I thought the wanker had no taste." Chuckling to himself, he pulled out some of the various drawers all to no avail. It made sense; it's not like Angel really had a reason to keep food around.

Sighing, Spike trudged back to the bedroom. Looked like he would get his first real trip into the sunlight in over a century sooner than planned. Looking for his clothes, he began to absently scratch at his arm. He itched. What a weird sensation. He lifted his arm, and caught a whiff of body odor. His face scrunched up a bit when he realized he was the only human in the room. *Damn. I hate that bloody smell* Shower. He really needed a shower. He padded over to the bathroom, and turned on the water. Letting it get nice and hot, he perused the many varied hygiene products Angel had in his collection. Spike vaguely wondered why a vampire would want to smell like coconut, but dismissed it. Angel/Angelus, he supposed that vanity part of his personality had been there since birth. Spike preferred the more heady, musky scents. Thankfully, Angelus had agreed with his tastes.

Spike stepped into the shower, letting the steaming water drench every aching muscle and pore in his body. He rubbed his aching shoulders, and wondered what he had done to make himself so sore. Oh, yeah - fight. Human body. Damn. Rubbing his soreness to no avail, he wished that Angel had been there when he woke up. He could be with him now, massaging out the rough night from his muscles. The thought of Angel's strong, cool vampiric body heated by the water and steam made Spike's cock twitch. Memories of the night before came back to him, and his erection grew steadily as he re-lived it.

Grabbing the shampoo, he squeezed out a small amount and began to massage it into his scalp. He imagined Angel would be good at this, too. It helped that Angel was taller than him. He liked that. He could fit into his body, mold himself to Angel's form. Course, in a fight it was a right bloody nuisance. His shaft fell a bit, thinking back on all the times of late they had done way too much fighting. His demon demanded it. Spike would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't wanted it as well. He loved Dru, and he had his pride, after all. Wouldn't have done him good to be all submissive to a souled vampire - even one as feared as Angel. He had a reputation and an un-life to protect. Not to mention he'd wanted to prove to Angelus at every turn that he could live without him. And he had.

Spike allowed himself to smile. He had survived. It hurt. It caused him pain a hundred times over. Didn't matter. Last night, he was complete. HE made the move - he made Angel want HIM. It wasn't exactly his Sire. Then again, he wasn't exactly the Childe he used to be, either. They were both different people, looking for common ground. Spike had no complaints over where the found it. Grabbing the body wash, he squeezed a quarter-sized dollop on the washcloth and began to get rid of the stench plaguing him. The muscles of his arms protested slightly at the stretching required to reach his neck and back, but the steaming water hitting right below his neck was helping immensely. Buying Angel one of those shower massage heads he'd heard about sounded like a splendid idea. He was going to use it the most, of course, but hey, how often did the poof get presents, anyway? Reaching down, he caressed his calves and thighs, taking extra care to knead some of the tension and soreness. He saved his cock for last, savoring the feel of the rough cloth over his still-sensitive member. *Angel would probably be right good at this, too.*

Dropping the cloth to the tiled floor, Spike began to slowly stroke himself. The pictures of a night spent with Angel assaulted him once more, and he leaned forward, laying his head against the tile. The spray continued to assault him with beads of hot water, as his brain filled him with thoughts of lust. His eyes fluttered shut, completely surrendering him to the images in his head. The pace of his hand increased, and Spike shuddered. "Angel." His voice rang louder in the enclosed space, but Spike barely heard it. He imagined Angel being right there. Naked and beautiful, his body wet and a stray trail of soap creeping down his shoulder blade. Spike imagined letting it get almost to his nipple before brushing it off. Angel kissed him, and it could almost be the dark-haired one who had a grip on his cock. Stroking him until he couldn't care what he was. Human. Demon. A lover. HIS lover. Spike gave a final grunt, and his warm seed shot out onto the wall. He slowly opened his eyes. Damn, still alone. He allowed himself a last moment under the waning heat of the water, and watched the spray wash the evidence of his arousal down the drain. He really hoped Angel got back soon.

*****
Part 8:

Spike finally turned off the taps and wrapped himself in a fluffy towel. Food had once again crept into his brain. He would obviously have to take care of that base need as well. He grinned. Just wait until he could grace Angel with the details of his morning. He would wait until just the right moment. Probably when Wesley was lecturing about some obscure demon fact. He would lean over and whisper all his desires in his Sire's ear. Best way to make him uncomfortable that Spike could think of. It served his purposes, too.

Drying off, he went to the fogged-up mirror and wiped it with his towel. Again, he found himself transfixed by his reflection. It was a different person. Different, at least, since the last time he was able to look in a mirror. Gone was the long sandy-colored hair. No more bows to tie it up, or wigs to put on. Not that William ever did that sort of poncy stuff. Mostly because he was too poor. His face hadn't really changed. With not aging and all, there were no wrinkles; not even a pore out of place. The shocking platinum locks and dark eyebrows, however, did much to destroy the William of before. Spike couldn't figure out how the poof could call him that. Couldn't he see? He hadn't been 'William' for quite some time. Then again, Angel hadn't been 'Angelus' for quite some time, either. Spike could still see it, though. *Suppose the wanker sees right through me, as well.*

Quickly, Spike brushed his teeth and tried to get dressed. His clothes smelled of his fight and booze. *What am I going to do?* Everything else was in his crypt. Driving stark naked to Sunnydale seemed like a right waste of his time. Spike stared straight ahead, and noticed the full closet. *Oh no. No way am I gonna do that. Uh, uh. I hate the poof's clothes.* A full-blown laugh escaped Spike out of the blue, spurred by the thought of him walking into Burger King and ordering a whopper, completely naked. "Probably the most excitement those blokes have had all year."

"I hope you don't mean me, buster."

Cordelia! Spike hurriedly looked for a pillow, blanket; anything to cover his awkward state. Why did he care, again, exactly? Cordelia catching him in the nude, hell, any member of the 'Scooby Gang' catching him in the nude, would have been a treasure to milk for all eternity. Yesterday. Today, he was feeling a bit embarrassed, and having Cordelia see his most private 'affairs', was not on his to-do list. "Um, Cordelia, just wait there, okay luv?"

"Why? What are you doing in there?" Cordelia didn't like the sound of Spike's voice. He may be human now, but that certainly didn't make him harmless. If anything, she figured it made him worse. "I don't trust you. I'm coming in there, so whatever you're doing, you better..." She never finished the sentence, for when she walked in the room, she was greeted by the sight of Spike tugging on his jeans - over nothing. Well, not over 'nothing', but there was nothing covering the very obvious 'something'.

"Cordelia!" Spike nearly tripped over the leg of his jeans. "I told you not to bloody walk in! It's all your fault." He fastened his jeans, and sat back on the bed, facing away. Embarrassment did not suit Spike, or William. Spike started to fidget with the slender fingers of his other hand. He needed a cigarette. He turned back around towards Cordelia and smiled inwardly. She was still rooted to the same spot. *Did a number on her, old boy, eh?* Just then, Spike was mighty pleased with himself. Turning away from her, again, his mental party was interrupted with a more depressing thought. *Angel is gonna be pissed when he hears about this little incident.*

Cordelia recovered quickly and walked over to Spike. "Why do you smell like coconut?" Dwelling on the situation now was pointless. Spike was obviously as disturbed by the turn of events as she was. Besides, that particular picture was best mulled over in private. Where it could be appreciated to it's fullest potential. *Oh dear God, I need a boyfriend.*

"What?" Cordelia was next to him, and he hadn't even realized it. So many things had changed, so quickly. He still remembered what her blood smelled like, tinged with fear and worry for her friends. Now they were together, in Angels' room, talking about coconuts. "Shampoo. Angel has coconut shampoo."

"A-ha! I knew it! He wouldn't tell me. Just wait until I get my hands on his un-dead neck..."

"Um, Cordelia?" Spike wasn't sure how to proceed. He felt like he had been completely blind-sided. Well, he kind of had. *'The Big Bad' my arse! I'm so bad; I have to ask the queen of clothes where to go buy food. She'll probably want to go along, too.* He briefly considered asking if she was cool with what had just occurred, but took his cue from her silence. If she was willing to let it drop, so was he.

Cordelia scrunched her nose at Spike. *What could it possibly be? He looks so worried, confused. Please don't bring up this whole mess* she fervently prayed. "Well, get on with it! I do have a manicure to attend to." Inwardly, the cheerleader smiled. Still got that 'Queen C' exterior. Ha!

Spike smiled. That was good old Cordy - attitude to the last. He always liked her. He briefly wondered how she could put up with Angel, when his stomach growled loudly.

"Wow! Geez, I heard that one! Ya know, you're a lot noisier now that you're human." Cordelia smiled. She had a feeling where this was going, now.

"Um, I need a favor, luv. I'm hungry, and 'soul-boy' has not a crumb of 'normal' food in this dump. 'Cept beer, but I think I'm beyond even that." Spike gave her his most pouty look, just for emphasis.

"Oh, this is so priceless! Why didn't we think of having Willow curse you or something, earlier?!"

"YOU THINK THIS IS SOME SORT OF SODDIN' JOKE?!"

The force of Spike's outburst caused Cordelia to stumble back from the bed several feet. What did she say? Food. They had been talking about food. She risked a glance up at the mortal standing in front of her and gulped. He looked like a predator. She knew he was human. He had a soul.

Humans were capable of killing, too.

"Um, Spike, what are you talking about?"

"This! This bloody 'make Spike mortal' crap. You think it's a joke, don't you. Gets you off, doesn't it. One less blood-sucking fiend for you to worry about."

"Uh, I wouldn't quite go as far as "getting me off"....

Her words trailed off as Spike ripped a shirt of Angel's from the hanger and stormed out of the bedroom. What just happened? Spike had been about to invite her to lunch, and then without warning, she thought she was back to being lunch. Wordlessly, she turned to leave, then backed up again when Spike re-appeared in the doorway. He didn't say anything. He just pinned her to the spot with his eyes as he stalked to the bed and retrieved his Docs. Cordelia felt as if she had been released by an unknown force when Spike's gaze finally left her. She sunk to the bed, dumbfounded. "Angel's not gonna be happy."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Angel was practically giddy. Even over the pain of the gash in his arm the demon had caused, he was happy. It was done; he was on his way home.

William. He was going home to William.

Thoughts of the previous night played through Angel's mind like a movie. He was glad he normally walked ahead of others - Doyle might notice the slight bulge in his pants. It was becoming increasingly awkward to walk, but he kept on. *Think about something else*, he admonished himself - work, think about work. *Kissing Will in the office...* No! Damn. How about, um...Angel gave up. Anything and everything he could think of involved William in some way. He resigned himself to the uncomfortable walk back to his car, and let his thoughts wander. He thought of Buffy, and hoped she made it back safely. He doubted she would call, but he wished for it all the same. He had a feeling that, strangely enough, she would be the one person he could talk to. She harbored no love for Spike, but she certainly understood complex relationships. Maybe 'understand' wasn't quite accurate, but she atleast could empathize. Angel briefly wondered how she ended up with Riley, anyway. *Ah well. Water under the bridge, right?* Buffy was not his reason for killing the demon, nor was she responsible for his lustful feelings. All that lay securely on the shoulders of a certain other blonde whom he had almost forgotten. Thinking of Buffy made his mind wander back to the last real encounter he'd had with Will.

It had been two years since the gypsies cursed him. He wandered alone in the night, as lost as any other soul. Not totally able to suppress his animalistic nature, he would still hunt and feed - but he couldn't kill. The streets were full of beggars and thieves - men to whom Death would pay a visit soon enough. These he would drain sometimes. Even then, the burning truth of his actions sent a slow flame through his body; burning his soul for the crime. Rational thought left him, and he formulated a plan. Inspiration. He needed his people - his clan. His loves.

Isolation was making him mad with confusion. Darla had thrown him out in a rage. She hadn't been thinking clearly - neither of them had. And William - he missed William. Drusilla as well. They were his life - his blood. No power in the Universe could take that away from him. He sought her out, and arrived in China during a rather nasty little war. Seemed the natives weren't taking too kindly to the Western influence. Religious undertones - it was fitting for Darla to be here. Fitting as well, that she be joined by her childe, Angelus, the feared one. He tried to be strong, but she could hear the pleading in his voice. She accepted it. She let him attempt to recreate what they shared. What he refused to let go. Darla was fairly easy. William was not.

Darla took him to where Drusilla had perched to watch the fire. She loved it - it spoke to her. She would giggle when another building or ruins caught flame, clapping her hands and swaying. She looked at Angel and smiled wide when he stood next to her.

"Daddy's come back to us." She stood and ran her slender, white fingers down the side of his face. "You still smell of trouble - I see...." Drusilla just smiled and let her fingers drop. Turning away, she silently went back to watching the fire. Angelus stood there with his women for a moment, until the air became too thick with unspoken tension. Turning, he walked back toward their rooms, not really knowing where he was going, or why. He nearly jumped when a familiar hand clapped him on the back.

"So, couldn't stay away, huh? Figured as much. Why leave when you could have all this?"

The body belonging to the voice circled until he was directly in front of Angelus, arms spread wide, a wicked grin gracing his features.

"I reckon you just couldn't hack it on your own. For all your posturing, I bet you've been a soddin' wreck for two years. Scrapin' and clawin' and generally being the poofer I always knew you were."

Angelus growled, and spun his insolent Childe to face him, grabbing his collar. "Nice to see you too, 'Spike'." Angelus spat out his Childe's nickname. Shoving him backwards, he continued on, turning towards the rooms he was now once again sharing with his clan. He could hear William following him, strangely not saying a word. No sooner had he crossed the threshold when the door slammed and he was pushed against the table in front of him.

"You came back here for 'her', didn't you."

Angelus was flipped around by the smaller vampire, so they were face to face, William looking slightly up at him. "I..." the dark-haired vampire never got to finish the sentence. Spike kneed him in the crotch, letting him grab the table for support. "S'orright, ya know. I've moved on. Me and Dru have got a thing. 'She' loves me."

"Do you love her?" Angelus knew he shouldn't have asked, but he couldn't help himself. His brain was screaming *walk away*, yet he stood rooted to the spot, pain momentarily forgotten as he concentrated on William. He knew it didn't matter. He had lost his Childe, just as his Sire was lost to him. Spike would stay with Dru, and Angelus had the nagging feeling that their days of glory were drawing to a quick close.

"Yeah. I do." William turned away, heading toward the bedrooms. "She isn't you, Angelus." Turning back around, he stared at the taller vampire, his Sire, as if memorizing his features. "No one can ever be you." He continued down the hall, and Angelus heard one more comment, before a door shut forever. "Tosser."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*Stupid bloody bint* Spike muttered under his breath. What was he going to do, now? Tapping his foot waiting for the too-slow elevator, he hatched a plan. Maybe not a great one, but who cared right then? Grab the keys, drive around until he found something that resembled food. Shoving the door roughly upwards, he stalked out of the elevator and grabbed his keys from Angel's desk. Walking to the window, he briefly wondered where Angel would have parked his precious DeSoto. Stepping into the sunlight still met with trepidation, but the warm feeling of the sunlight caressing his skin drew Spike closer. Squinting his eyes from the sun, Spike seriously considered sunglasses as a new addition to the wardrobe. He forgot how damn bright it was!

Feeling his stomach growl insistently, the blonde man reluctantly moved away from the window. During his brief journey bounding down the staircase of the old building, Spike decided that going to an actual store would be the best course of action. As much as the thought nauseated him, Spike realized he could be human for several more days. Possibly weeks, but his brain just refused to acknowledge such thoughts. Best to have supplies, though. If nothing else, living with Xander taught him the virtues of junk food addiction.

Alexander Harris, however, needed to be detoxed. He remembered being kept barely concious, tied to a chair, while the overly-chatty teen prattled incessantly about - well, anything. Spike decided to maybe skip the chocolate. *Ok, not all of it.* Pudding cups had their advantages. Especially when Spike replaced the vanilla in the swirl versions with blood. He had actually almost convinced the dark-haired mortal that it was a new raspberry flavor. Damn that distinctive smell. Right good laugh, though, when the boy figured it out. Almost sent him to the toilet. Almost. Spike had to respect him for that.

Spike found his trademark car parked alongside 'the Angelmobile' behind Angel Investigations. He hopped inside, and felt right at home. This was him. The interior was a mess; tapes strewn everywhere, clothes and the heavens only knew what else. *What is that smell?* Deciding it was better he not know, Spike took off for a food store. Finding one shouldn't be a problem - it's not like he didn't know what they looked like. After about five minutes of driving, Spike had to do something he had never done during the day - under any circumstances. Roll down the painted black windows.

It was warm enough outside that the DeSoto was starting to resemble a sauna. Chalk up body heat as another new experience. Spike figured he had been hot and sweaty the night before, as well, but it didn't matter much then. Driving around L.A. was much less fun, therefore he had time to think about it. Sweating was uncomfortable.

By the time he pulled into the parking lot of Vons, his borrowed shirt was sticking to his skin. What need did a vampire have for air conditioning? Spike had never thought to get that fixed. Neither himself or Dru had cared that much. Getting out of the car, he glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. This was becoming a habit - staring at himself. How could he help it? Every day he noticed something new. Angel's hair gel had been almost gone, and though Spike had really tried to just grab the tube and use it all - something stopped him. Instead, he slicked his hair up in a look he hadn't revisited in quite some time. Since the early eighties, actually. So there he was. Doc Maartens, black jeans, a black button-down, and spiked hair. He grinned, and unbuttoned a few of the top shirt buttons. If you're gonna look good, milk it, right?

Sliding gracefully out of the seat, he locked his precious car and headed to the sliding doors. Even this early, people were already thronging to the supermarket. Holidays. Always an easy time to find food. Too bad it was no longer simple as draining a stock boy. After fighting with releasing a shopping cart from the twisted pile by the door, the ex-vamp shoved off into the depths of Vons. Perusing the rows, it was quickly evident that Spike might've considered what 'exactly' he wanted before coming. He had overheard Buffy talking about shopping on an empty stomach being bad - now he knew why. He wanted to eat just about everything. Closing his eyes, he invisioned the perfect meal. The one denied him yesterday. He wasn't sure if the steak ever made it to the office, but he wasn't willing to take the chance. Jarred violently out of his steak dream, the ex-vamp opened his eyes to look at a rather large woman.

"Watch where you're going! You shouldn't just leave your cart out in the middle of the aisles like that! Someone could get hurt!"

The red-faced woman was shrieking at him, and waving her fist in his direction. Wearing curlers and a baggy dress, it was all Spike could do not to burst out laughing. As she walked; no - waddled away, Spike had a thought. Would she notice if he ran his cart into her much padded backside? He knew it was disaster before it even happened. Then again, he was 'The Big Bad'. Dammit, if all he could do was tease people, then so be it. He'd make sure to do it right. Turning his cart around, he ever so purposefully bumped into the woman's rear end. The tirade she was undoubtedly turning around to give was over-ridden by the sharp pain in his skull.

"Bloody Hell!" He barely touched her! The stranger was obviously finished with him and huffed away. Spike was pissed. Jerking his cart violently around, the blonde decided the quicker the shopping trip was over, the better.

*****
Part 9:

"We gotta talk." Doyle had wanted to wait until Cordelia was off work, but he just couldn't. He was too restless.

"Doyle, we've had this conversation. I'll go out with you when Hell freezes over and not a moment before."

Normally, Cordelia's carefully veiled flirting would spark Doyle into action. Not today. Even their easy banter was tossed aside in lieu of the horrible images running through his head. "Sorry, but we've got bigger problems. What do you think about Spike?"

"Ha! What am I supposed to think? He's pathetic! I mean, total loser vampire. I don't know why Angel even puts up with him. You know, he was running around the apartment stark naked this morning? Total disregard for others. Then, I suggest food and he totally freaks on me!"

"Freaks, how?" Doyle didn't miss the mad blush that crept over his co-worker's features. If that limey bastard had done anything to hurt her...

"Oh, well, you know, he was asking me about food and...oh God."

"What? What is it, sweetie?" Cordelia looked positively sheepish.

"Now I get why he was so mad. I kinda mentioned something about 'why didn't Willow curse him sooner', or something like that."

Doyle sighed. "Yeah, I can see where that would put a damper on the guy's mood." It didn't help the situation any, though. A depressed Spike just made more of a temptation for Angel. That vampire couldn't resist a set of puppy-dog eyes. "Trouble is, I'm worried about how Angel's reacting to this. That kiss sure didn't come out of nowhere."

"Ok, first, eww! Mental picture! I was so trying to repress." Cordelia brushed back the hair from her face and took a moment to reflect. "Obviously, we don't know everything. Angel has never mentioned Spike at all, really. Certainly, we have no business trying to decipher their relationship. I don't want to, anyway." Cordelia smiled, then continued. "It does worry me, though. The ties with Spike are older and stronger than any of us; Buffy included. We should at least talk to Angel - but we have to be careful."

Doyle nodded his agreement. Angel was under a bit of stress and if they were too heavy handed he would shut them out completely. "Agreed. Maybe I should talk with Spike, too. Try to feel out how he's dealin' with the renewed humanity."

"Sounds good."

They both knew their time was over. Cordelia immediately went back to filing papers - and Doyle decided to go see Angel. He knew it was impatience on his part, but he just couldn't help it. He couldn't just sit back and do nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Angel arrived back at his apartment to find it empty. His disappointment was visible as he dumped his keys and coat on the couch. Opening the fridge, he got an idea where Spike had gone. He grabbed a pint of blood, popped it into the microwave and waited. Mental images assaulted him; once more he had time to think. It was unbelievable, all that had transpired in less than twenty-four hours. Angel never would have thought Spike could come back to him. They were different people now, but Angel wasn't going to kid himself into thinking it would be an easy road. There was tension and distrust beneath the attraction. Not to mention the presence in his mind that he couldn't totally shake - Angelus. It was hard to look at Spike and not remember the passion, the devotion, the nights of blood and sex in dark alleys where Darla wouldn't tread. She always knew; she let Angelus have his toys.

Silence reigned in his small apartment until beeps from the microwave jarred the souled vampire from his reverie. Crossing to the couch, he eased onto the cushions and nursed his mug. Before his brain could start reflecting again, he heard the sound of the elevator door opening. "Hey, Doyle."

"Angel, how's it going?"

"Well, you know. It's going."

Silence sat between them for several minutes as Doyle made himself comfortable on the couch.

"Doyle, what's up? You have a vision?"

"Nah, no visions."

"Yeah, I figured. So, then you just wanted..."

"All right, this thing with Spike bothers me. Not in an 'understanding' way, but I'm getting afraid."

"Afraid I'll get too happy."

"That's definitely part of it."

"I can handle this."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that. Angel, I am your friend. Don't shut me out of this."

The vampire looked at the half-demon for the first time since he'd walked in. Concern and love were written all over his face - just as they always were. Angel smiled and relaxed a bit. "Doyle, I would never shut you out. What Spike and I have together, hell, I don't even know what it is anymore. But it's strong, and it's real. This time, I don't want to let him walk away."

Seriousness never left Doyle's face as his eyes bored into Angel. "Then don't, but be careful."

"Always."

They sat there together in silence for several moments, two friends perfectly comfortable with each other. The peace was broken by the elevator's cage door being slammed open. Angel glanced over and his eyes befell a very pissed blonde.

"Spike, how was shopping?" Angel got no response as Spike swept into the kitchen and tossed his bags down.

"I should be goin'. Make sure Cordy's not writin' out checks to herself."

Doyle took off, not wanting to be in the way. Angel didn't wait for his friend to go; he headed straight to the kitchen. Spike was busy putting away assorted groceries. Canned soup, potatoes, corn and junk food - lots of junk food. Ding-dongs, ho-ho's, sno-balls; Angel thought it in his best interest to hide some of it, before he had a pissed off ex-vamp on a sugar high. The mental picture was scaring him.

"I know this couldn't make you fat before, but c'mon. Don't you think this is maybe a bit much?" Spike didn't even stop to glare at him; he just kept putting away his 'groceries'. Angel decided to try another tactic. Not saying anything, he began to help Spike with storing his food.

"I don't need your bleedin' help."

"So, it does talk." This time, he got a glare. Angel was satisfied. They finished in silence, and the vampire was pleased to see the blonde had bought more 'real food' than he originally thought. When Angel turned from reaching into a rather high cabinet, Spike was gone. So was the bag of BBQ Lays. Angel found him splayed out on the couch, idly flipping through his three channels.

"There's nothing on."

"That's 'cause you ain't got a real telly. Heard of cable, mate?"

"Yeah, costs money. Besides, I prefer to read."

The human snorted. "Poof."

"Hey, you shagged me back."

The blonde threw a handful of potato chips at him, half-heartedly. His eyes weren't really focused on anything. Angel went to sit in his favorite leather reading chair. He figured Spike would talk if he waited long enough.

"What the bloody hell am I doin' here, Peaches."

The casual use of one of his favorite pet names for Angel did not go un-noticed.

"I don't know, Will."

At the use of his human name, Spike's eyes became cloudy with tears once more. He had tried so hard to escape that name. What it stood for - what it meant. William the sissy. That was him. Thin and lithe, his father and brothers had teased him mercilessly. 'Women want to marry a man', they said. The point he was at now was worse. "Don't call me that." His voice sounded high and cracking to his ears - like a woman's. At that point, he thought -'sod it'. If he was a pretty little sissy-boy then he'd act like one. He cried. If he could have looked up, he would have seen Angel looking worried. He wasn't drunk. He wasn't high. He was just over. Over being human. Over being beat-up. Over the near-constant pain in his head that made him want to smash it against a wall. He just wanted to go home - to be home. Be a vampire again - like he should be. Somewhere while he was lost in his thoughts, Angel gathered him in an embrace.

"I hate this. I hate this."

The dark-haired vampire shut his eyes against his own tirade of pain waiting to escape. Seeing his beautiful boy like this was killing him. He was strong, damn it, stronger than Angel most of the time. Now he was miserable and Angel could do nothing. Nothing but watch as his once fierce and wild creature diminished before him. It was all about the blood - again. Angel's blood had made him. The demon's blood had ruined him, stolen him away.

"I don't know what to do", Angel whispered. "I love you. Tell me what to do."

The blonde never opened his mouth. He merely wiped at his tear-stained face. Would he? Could he? Would his damn bloody soul let him? All these questions entered his mind, but he pushed them aside. A quick glance into Angel's soulful brown eyes gave him hope. He really looked willing. He would save his broken boy. His Childe. Spike was forced to look away as he turned his neck in offering.

A small gasp escaped Angel as he realized what Spike wanted. He wanted to be his Childe, again. To become a vampire. Willingly. He had another human life and he wanted to throw that away. Give it to Angel. Angelus was screaming inside him. Screaming how, this time, it would be different. How he could revel in toying with Spike. How they could rule the night, together. It was a tempting thought. No! Hadn't he promised himself this wouldn't happen? He wouldn't - couldn't do this! He was supposed to be saving souls, not destroying them.

But could he really leave Spike the way he was?

Something must have already happened to put him in this mood. Was it right of Angel to just leave him like this? Spike interrupted further thought when he stretched his neck and looked back toward Angel. His blue eyes were downcast; his whole body slumped in defeat. Slowly he turned away from the elder vampire, back to the T.V. So much for a new life.

"I want you, Spike. I want you so bad I can taste you. But I can't. Your being human, I have to look upon that as a gift." That caused Spike to look back over.

"A gift, mate? Well, remind me never to ask you for any bloody presents." Spike abruptly got up from the couch and grabbed his bag of chips. "I'm going for a walk."

Angel wasn't sure what exactly was on William's brain, but he could tell that it was something more than humanity. He followed the blonde after about a minute, finding him seated on a ledge - outside, where Angel couldn't follow. Damn him. It was obviously serious. "Spike, talk to me. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on." Nothing. Spike just sat there, basking in the warmth of the sunlight streaming onto the balcony. Sighing, Angel turned to go.

"You know that chip they put in my skull? Those Initiative blokes who kidnapped and neutered me?"

Angel was almost afraid to answer. "Yeah, I heard about that."

Spike just stared out at the skyline. The sun shone down brightly and right now, in this moment, it wasn't so bad - being human again. He soaked up a few more rays, then turned his gaze to Angel who became slightly green to his eyes from the sun exposure. "It still works."

"Spike," Angel had to choose his words very carefully. "I know that it must be hard for you, but you've always been different. You feel, you understand. Is it really that difficult for you to live with this restriction?"

Spike just laughed. That was his Sire - Mr. misses-the-bloody-obvious. "No, you stupid pillock," he ground out. "It works NOW. Right now, if I tried to pinch Cordy, or smack Doyle - headache central for Spike."

Angel was speechless. Not just vocally; that wasn't new. Mentally, his brain just shut down. He had no idea. He thought the fight had been started by Spike in an attempt to relive the glory days. More opponents than he could safely handle. Now, he began to realize what had really happened. Spike had been completely defenseless.

Spike looked over at Angel with resignation on his face. He knew it would be almost unfair to put Angel in this situation. He didn't particularly care. It felt as if a tremendous weight was being lifted off his shoulders. Angel would take care of everything. He would turn him back into a vampire and make everything right.

Angel was trapped inside the building, when all he wanted to do was gather Spike in his arms and comfort him. His momentary silence was slowly being replaced with seething anger. What kind of twisted creature could devise something so horrible? Acts like this were the main source of his emotions on those days when he wondered 'why'. Why was he fighting to save humans when they did such cruel things? Turning away from the sight of Spike casually perched on the ledge, he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill in anger. He was not thinking about the consequences anymore. Spike couldn't be expected to live like this. He would certainly look into other methods, but turning him seemed like the best choice - the only choice. When he turned back around, Spike was in the doorway staring at him. Angel took Spike's form and cradled it in his embrace. "I can do this. But I owe it to you and everyone else not to rush into it. You already know how to be a vampire - but I am not one anymore. I don't know what I am."

Spike listened to Angel with pain in his heart. As usual, the poof didn't get it. "You're afraid that if I become a vampire again, I won't love you." He wiggled in the strong arms to see his dark lover's face. "You just don't get it, you nonce." Spike's voice was soft as he stroked the side of Angel's face. "Every part of me loves you. I love you, my demon loves you - and when we become reunited that won't change. You're my everything, Angel. My father, brother, teacher, lover - Sire. NOTHING will ever change that."

Angel had to squeeze his eyes shut against the flood of joyous tears that threatened to escape. No sooner had Spike whispered those words, than Angel's mouth was claimed by the soft lips of his now-human lover. Angel wanted this just once more. To feel the warmth of Spike - if only for a few more hours. Sometimes he felt as if he didn't deserve this; the love and devotion of such a strong, willful man. Angel knew he didn't deserve it. But he had it, and redemption and consequences be damned. He would not give up this time. His beautiful boy was worth it. He would seek permission from no one. William had always been his, alone.

*****